The Gold Kloof. H. A. Bryden

from the flesh.

      "No, the Bechuanas don't like them," rejoined Mr. Blakeney. "At the same time they don't care about molesting them. In Zululand the natives will never touch them. They have an idea that the souls of their ancestors return to the bodies of these serpents, and will even allow them to live close to their huts. For my part, I don't like the proximity of such neighbours."

      Having carefully scraped every fragment of fat or flesh from the skin, the two lads rubbed in arsenical soap, and pegged it out on the shady side of the wall of an outhouse, where in a day or two the cure was complete.

      In a few more weeks Guy Hardcastle had acquired a very fair knowledge of the far-spreading pastures of Bamborough Farm. He began to pick up, too, some knowledge of stock and stock-farming, for he was a quick lad, who always had his wits about him, and was anxious to gain any sort of information that might be useful to him. He had seen mealies and oats reaped, and assisted in other operations. He had had a very good time, for, mingled with the preliminaries of a pastoral farmer's life, to which his uncle had introduced him, he had had a fair amount of shooting, several pleasant excursions with his cousins to neighbouring farms, and a trip to Mafeking to bring home stores. At the end of January he accompanied his uncle to Johannesburg with a herd of fat cattle, which were disposed of for excellent prices on their arrival there.

      On this expedition, although they were assisted by native servants, they had to experience some of the roughs and tumbles of veldt life. They lived for the most part in the saddle, sleeping at night in a light mule wagon which accompanied them. The weather was broken and unsettled; the rains, which began in December, still fell heavily at intervals, and they were often drenched to the skin. Even their wagon tent by no means sufficed to protect them from the tropical downpours that periodically fell from the lowering heavens. Nevertheless, to the secret satisfaction of Mr. Blakeney, Guy bore all the discomforts that overtook them with the most cheerful spirit, and arrived at Johannesburg in excellent heart and fettle. He had proved himself a very useful auxiliary, and his uncle was more than well pleased with his behaviour. The return from the gold city was made with much less discomfort, and, unencumbered with a big herd of cattle, they reached home within a fortnight.

      One evening, a short time after their return, Mr. Blakeney called Guy into his own room, the "den," as he called it, in which he did most of the office work connected with the farm, and kept his papers, books, and accounts, as well as his guns, rifles, and ammunition. Guy was just then engaged in a game of chess with his aunt, who was a skilful player, and was teaching him something of the rudiments of the art.

      "Well, aunt," he said, as he rose with a cheery laugh, "I'm defeated again, I see. You have mate in another move, haven't you?"

      "I'm afraid it is so, Guy," replied Mrs. Blakeney. "Never mind; you are getting along very well. This has been quite a good fight, and in another six months you will be crowing over me, I expect."

      Guy walked quickly to his uncle's room, where an oil lamp shed a bright glow over everything. Mr. Blakeney was a man of methodical habits. His books and papers were always in their right places; his guns gleamed brightly on their racks; everything was in apple-pie order.

      "Sit down, Guy," said his uncle, pointing to the chair near him; "I want to have a bit of a talk with you. First of all, I want to know something about your views of cattle-farming and South African farming life generally. Is it the kind of life you think will suit you, and can you make up your mind to settle down to it? You have now had a three months' apprenticeship, and have probably formed your own opinions."

      "Well, Uncle Charles," replied Guy, "my answer is a very short one. I like the life immensely, and mean to stick to it. I can think of nothing that will suit me half so well as to settle down steadily to the same kind of existence that you lead here. I should like it above all things, and I have thought the whole matter very carefully over."

      "Remember, Guy, my boy," said his uncle kindly, "that hitherto, except for the journey to Johannesburg, which wasn't a very pleasant one, although from a financial point of view it answered excellently, you have seen rather the bright side of things out here. This place, although I say it who perhaps shouldn't, is rather a cut above the average. We have put capital into the thing, my cousin and I-I mean, of course, George Forster, who farms the adjoining land, and is my partner. We do the thing well, and our homesteads are exceptionally good. We have, as you see, some of the refinements as well as the comforts of civilization about us. And hitherto we have had good seasons and great luck. But you have to remember that there come times of drought; various diseases attack stock, locusts destroy the veldt, and the farmer's losses are often very heavy indeed. They say rinderpest is on its way south, and will in time reach us even here. It has got as far as Nyasaland, and will probably work its way right through the continent to the very shores of Cape Colony. You must look at all these things before you decide."

      "Well, uncle," repeated Guy, "I can only say that I have honestly tried to look at the thing all round. I know-and many thanks to you all for it-that you have shown me the best and brightest side of everything, and that I can't always expect to live in the lap of luxury, as I do here. Please take my word for it. I want to go in for this kind of life. I mean to stick to it seriously and learn the business, and try and make something out of it; and I do hope you will do what you once said you might be inclined to do-that is, teach me the business, and let me in time get hold of some land near you. I have quite made up my mind, and that's my decision."

      "Well, Guy," said his uncle, with a pleased look on his kindly, expressive face, "I'm very glad to hear this. I like you, my boy. I believe you will stick to your business, and not look at it merely as a hobby or a plaything; and I can only say, for my part, that I will do all in my power to help you on. For your father's sake, as well as your own, I shall do this; and I hope in a few years, when you've got experience, you will do very well for yourself. Meanwhile, I've lately had my eye on two farms, hitherto unoccupied, which touch our north-west boundary. They are called Hartebeestfontein and Bushman's Kraal. I can get them cheap. They are the usual six thousand acre farms, and I can buy them from Government for £600 the pair. I shall write to my agent at Vryburg to-morrow to secure these farms, which I shall henceforth take to and stock. I shall hold these at your disposal, either one or both of them; and in two or three years' time, if you like to try and make a start on your own hook, why, we'll put up a decent house for you, open up the water supply-I know on Hartebeestfontein there is a spring, and I believe there are some likely aars [veins] in the limestone, where more water is pretty certain to be found-and stock the place, so that you can make a fair beginning. But we must go slow for a time, and meanwhile you've got to learn your business. Still, I am bound to say that I believe and hope you'll do very well. You are steady, or I am very much mistaken; you have brains; and I know, I can see, that, like your dear father, you will always go straight, which in this life is a good deal more than half the battle."

      Chapter IV.

      THE GOLD SPOOR

      "There is another matter I want to speak to you about, Guy," continued Mr. Blakeney, "which has been perplexing me a good deal. It is this: When your father wrote me the first of the two last letters he sent me before his death, he sent also a short statement, sealed in a packet and marked 'Important.' This statement concerns a very rich discovery of gold in a far-away part of the interior of South-west Africa, somewhere on the border of the Portuguese territory of Benguela. I have worried over this problem for many weeks past, and the conclusion I have come to is that I ought to tell you about the whole business. The shortest and best plan is, I think, to show you your father's letter. Here it is; I'll read it to you: -

"'ABAQUESSA, GOLD COAST, March 19, 1896

      "'MY DEAR CHARLIE, – You will see from the letter I have already written you that I am in a very precarious state of health, and that I doubt greatly if I shall get over these repeated attacks of fever. In case anything happens to me, I must unburden my mind on one other matter, which seems to me, though it may not to you, very important. A year ago, as you know, I was making some mineral explorations for copper in the mountains behind Mossamedes, Portuguese West Africa. There was little copper to be found worth speaking of, and this business came to an end. One day towards the finish of this work, a Bushman in my service, named Poeskop, came to me and said he thought he could show me something better than copper; that he had once found gold,